The Cat That Slapped Me

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As I was walking outside with my dog only inches behind me, his nails patting the pavement in an almost hypnotic way. All of a sudden I saw this beautiful creature of a cat appear from the corner of my eye. She was grey with a tad of brown and something that could be called the colour of my so beloved taste that is caramel. Definitely a pretty one.

I approached her slowly, trying some of my charms on her to get her somewhat nearer and after some openly exposed hesitation (it's still a cat in the end...) she came closer and let me stroke her back. Gently I traced my fingers through her fur as soft as velvet, and heard her make an ever so slight purr. As if she didn't even want me to notice she liked the attention. One hundred percent feline arrogance. No doubt about that...

But then something else came along. She started moaning at me. In the kind of voice you would recognise out of thousands. Like someone having had a rotten day and just wanting to make you part of that, to feel at least a little better about it. I smiled silently. How cute was it, that a cat could moan like a human being. Still, she coiled herself around my hands as if she's not seen anybody to give her at least the slightest piece of attention lately.

And then it happened. "MEOW!" she said in a loud voice. Slapping my hand away from her in a way that made nothing more clear to me, than her wanting me to bugger off. There weren't any nails involved, but still she hit me pretty firm for an animal as small and delicate as a cat. I put on a smile, muttering at her about being a grumpy one and that I just was trying to be nice.

So off we went. Continuing our stroll through the countryside. Leaving me with a grin plastered on my face, thinking about the unpredictability of a species called Cat.

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